Spiderthread Untruth
by Fanless
Summary: Luke has a few second thoughts, and ruminates in his own way upon said thoughts. Hints of LukePercy. Second chapter is Author's Note, so technically it's a oneshot.
1. Final Entry

_Final Entry _

It's been said that hate is not the opposite of love; indifference is. Therefore, hate is less dire than indifference, because it shows that the one who hates is still connected in some way to the one they hate. Indifference simply erases all connections.

By that logic, I would still be connected to the gods.

The thought revolts me. I have broken every tie I could and destroyed every vestige of my obeisance to them! How, then, could I be accused of remaining one of their chosen? How could I possibly be still, in some form, what I was before reality set in and froze the bud of my childish innocence?

But if the saying is true…

what then would be the most appropriate response? To leave the world of the gods behind me—to just forget? Abandon the reason for my existence and live like a normal person with no regrets, no anger, and no thirst for the revenge that consumes like flame?

Impossible. I am the fallen one, the one chosen by my lord Kronos to overthrow his arrogant, irresponsible children with their own powers! I cannot simply pretend none of the betrayal ever happened. Neither can I let it go unpunished. Wanting to right their wrongs, erase their mistakes-- it doesn't mean I still care about them.

The children don't matter all that much either, to be honest. They can be swayed, after all, and their powers won't mean that much when their parents are crumbling in the dust. It's just unfortunate that so many of them choose to blindly follow their fools of progenitors. They could be put to such good use instead, and their idiotic loyalty makes them useless to the cause.

He's one of them.

I'm not uneasy because I'm uncomfortable with the thought of destroying him. It would just be a waste of all that talent he's got. I remember his eyes unconsciously lighting up when I told him what a gift he had. It might have been the only time I told him the truth.

I'm not uneasy when I think about that smile, either. It's just that the pure innocence of it all makes me sick.

I don't regret anything I've done to him. I've never wasted nights suffering insomnia just because his face flashed without reason into my mind. I've never spent those nights wondering what would have happened if none of this had ever happened. I've never had a single doubt about the path I stride, and certainly none of them were connected to the kid. Because they never happened.

I've never wished I'd had more patience for Hermes. There hasn't been a single time when I've slipped up and called him Father since I began on this crusade. After all, my lord Kronos is more of a protector and figure than that god ever was. And besides, I no longer consider myself a child of the gods.

The gods.

Do I avenge myself and all my abandoned blood kin and show that the gods are still under my skin, or sever all connection, possibly with them the threads of Fate, and allow the tattered masquerade they call Western civilization to continue as it is?

I may have no choice between the two, for even as I write my lord and master prepares the first direct attack on Olympus. I will be in the front line, at his right hand—yes, for Kronos himself is finally free and able to exact his revenge—and there is every chance that I will fall. I realize this, for last night I did not sleep and the clarity of mind that can only come in the midnight hour of the soul visited me.

I see that I have been as arrogant as the gods themselves. Not that it helps me now.

I also see that even if I had any regrets whatsoever—not that I'm saying I do—it would be far too late to ask forgiveness.

And I see clearest of all that the dream I had once, long ago when I was surer of my role in the world's tale, can never come true.

* * *

I never told anyone about this dream, because the dreams of a demigod have a nasty habit of turning out to be more than simple regurgitations of pictures and words. But I'm telling you now, because this may be my last chance. It won't take long.

In this dream, I was back at Camp Half-Blood. Everything was the way it was before my quest went sour. Most of all, I was happy.

I was sitting by the stream, in the same spot I unleashed the pit scorpion all those fateful eons—or so it seems—ago. I was waiting for someone; half excited and breathless in a way I hadn't been for years, half resigned that the person wouldn't show, listlessly drawing patterns in the patch of bare dirt with a stick.

The waiting seemed to have gone on forever. The sun began to set. I was about to get up and leave, disappointed and oddly depressed, when a rustling sounded behind me.

"Hi, Luke! Sorry I'm so late. Annabeth was kinda delaying me, and I didn't want to tell her who I was meeting because then she'd want to come."

My head jerked up despite my efforts to hide surprise. I didn't turn around yet.

"And this is our time to ourselves, right? Thanks for sticking around, 'cause…" The too-familiar voice sounded a little shy. "…I wanted to tell you something important."

I finished my aimless doodling and stood up. "So what are we waiting for?"

"I figured you'd say that!" The smile was audible. "Come on, let's go sit on the roof or something and watch the rest of the sunset, okay? It's nice tonight."

Finally I turned. You stood there, smiling and holding out your hand. Next thing I knew I was staring at the ceiling above my bed.

Maybe you know what the dream meant. Maybe you don't. Come to think of it, maybe I know what the dream meant. Then again, maybe I don't. Maybe it doesn't matter. Make of it what you will.

Remember what talented liars Hermes' children are? Of course you do, and you're probably frowning and wondering what percentage of this letter is made up of those world-class lies. I'll make it easy and tell you: Everything except the last 587 words, and the ones after them.

This document was never meant to be read by anyone. However, you always said you were a nobody. Not that it was true. But then, Odysseus got far being Nobody. (I know, levity, shocking.)

What you think of me after reading this is up to you. Since I have no business hoping anything, that means I have no business telling you that I hope it'll change the way you feel about me, and in which ways I hope you'll reconsider me. Definitely no business praying that you'll forgive me when you don't even know why, especially when I'm not praying to any of the gods anymore. Well, not much. I should keep this bit as truthful as possible, I suppose.

Kronos beckons his lieutenant. I have to stop writing, but before I go onto the battlefield and see a multitude of familiar faces watching me from what I now feel is the wrong side, I'll finish with the most truthful words in this entire journal… I guess it's a letter now. Anyway.

Percy—I'm sorry, and I l

* * *

Here the original writing ends. The source material (notebook) was retrieved from the body of Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, killed by an ambush strike by Perseus Jackson, son of Poseidon. This action was the first blow struck in the Turncoat's War, which took place in the beginning of the 21st century. 

_Annotated by Chiron, master healer in the Turncoat's War and head historian at the Crimean University._

**Excerpted from **_**Western Civilization: Its Genesis, Its Fall, Its Resurrection?**_


	2. Author's Note

Sorry. I didn't want to spoil the flow, and both these sections are quite long.

Well, this was interesting to write. I mostly wrote it hiding in my room while watching _Kannazuki no Miko_ when my dad was away on business, and finished it while staying up late with laptop under the covers. (Ha-ha. If my mom asks, you didn't hear that.)

This has a lot of obscure half-hidden miscellaneous objects of your choice in it, like double meanings and such. Even the title can be interpreted in a convoluted manner—a "thin" lie, a web of lies, a thread that connects—so forth. See what I mean? This is what listening to the Magnetic Fields gets you.

In fact, I listened to music pretty much the whole time I wrote this, so it's probably not as good as it could be, since I wasn't giving it my undivided attention. My apologies. Someday I'll probably rewrite it.

Sorry for all the repeated words. Also, it doesn't sound that Luke-ish. But oh well. It's still a nice piece of work. I'm especially proud of the beginning paragraphs and the ending. (It evolved a bit from what it was originally conceived to be. What it originally was, I can't say. ) What do _you _think? I want to hear your reviews, and make sure they're more truthful than Luke's "final entry". After all, after being weaved of so many lies, doesn't this little tale deserve a little honesty attached to it?

Right, that's it. I can't write any more. The blanket over my head is suffocating me. What an anticlimax.

Fanless (dripping in sweat)

Wednesday, June 27, 2007

1:55:04 AM, U.S. Pacific time

* * *

All right.

Well.

I guess I was wrong about this not being as good as it could be, because the most perceptive reviewer in the world (name of The Fifth Champion. Go check her out **now**) has sent me a review (thesis, more like) that basically dug everything I had running through my head connected to this story but could probably never fully articulate myself out and explained it very wonderfully. It was so crazy amazing I had to show it off to the rest of the world here. I hope she doesn't mind...

* * *

On the contrary, I thought this was very Luke-ish indeed. It's sharp and  
bitter and witty and hard-- very much the way I feel he is portrayed in the  
books upon Percy discovering his betrayal. So, from end of the first book,  
ON  
WOW: I'm reviewing this extremely late. You have to understand--from the  
moment I looked at the title of this, I was immediately drawn to it.  
"Spiderthread Untruth" Can anything possibly sound more enchanting and  
haunting and darkly poetic than that? You must understand, that I kill for  
these sorts of things And yet, the fact that there was an undertone of  
LukePercy kept me from reading it. Its not that I dislike slash/shonen-ai. I  
could just never see Luke or Percy for that matter harboring homosexual  
feelings--not to mention, I'm a very greedy individual, and my own personal  
attachment to Luke kept me from shipping him with ANYONE for quite a long  
time. I can now say that I am a fairly-enthused Thunke shipper, though I  
still possess a strong attachment to Luke  
But this is just so gorgeous.  
And again I repeat.  
This is just SO GORGEOUS.  
In complete honesty, you are an amazing writer. You say that you want to  
rewrite this? I really feel thats unnecessary. I found the wording beautiful,  
elegant, flawless. I sunk instantly and immediately into what was being  
said--was completely captivated. And unlike what you said, apparently I  
really felt like it was Luke speaking--I could almost hear his voice.  
And the more I think about it--I should have you know--the more interesting  
and amusing the whole LukePercy thing is becoming. Seriously.  
The beginning notion is mind-boggling, philosophical, richly amazing. Just in  
general, the idea of hate not, in fact, being the opposite of love, because a  
connection and feelings still exists--is brillant. And comparing it to Luke's  
situation with the gods is sheer genius. I can see him doing this. In my mind,  
Luke has always been a very reflective, idealistic, overthinker. Not the  
tradional intelligence of Annabeth, obviously--but someone who sits and stews  
over things. Obviously, this is directly connected to his hatred of Olympus

The actual language of this was beautiful, and I find that first person  
narrative is a difficult thing to pull off WELL, so lots of immense praise on  
that! The wording was so gorgeous, this is so well-written, I adore it:  
especially this one line: "What I was before reality set in and froze the bud  
of my childish innocence?" A "bud" of innocence is such a gorgeous metaphor,  
sounding so young, just blooming--verus a whole flower. And how it was frozen  
before it could flourish. Outstanding.  
The way he speaks about demigods--the way he talks of the gods--so crisply,  
firmly, so assuredly--sounds just like him in everyway. In fact, I really feel  
like you've characterized him perfectly at least in my opinion so I don't  
understand why you think it sounds un-Luke-ish. In fact, his steady  
determination and obstinate belief in the righteousness of his crusade only  
makes it more obvious that he has doubts--in a subtle, begruding way, that is  
very much how I see Luke. The constant repeating of "I don't have anything to  
regret" especially when it applies to Percy, makes the bitterness and slight  
questioning very obvious.  
And the line about Percy's smile was so uberly! sweet and sad, I loved it  
so much! You really make me actually LIKE the LukePercy pairing, which s a  
major compliment, because I seriously don't think that Luke is gay. But I  
won't deny, the way you describe the tension, the longing, the begruding  
nature-how they are on opposite sides, makes it all extremely intriguing and  
interesting.  
The dream is so bittersweet, so perfect. I feel like its definitely  
symbolic--but I'm afraid that I'll butcher its wonder if I guess. It gave me  
this choking sensation I feel when very emotional, powerful, and climatic  
moments are reached, smothering you so that you can't breathe. Its so good.  
I knew it was Percy, somehow, you conveyed it very well, through subtle  
means. This whole piece, in a quiet sort of way, is really centered on Luke's  
thoughts on Percy, isn't it? Somehow, that single motion: "You stood there,  
smiling and holding out your hand" and those words "'Come on, let's go sit  
on the roof or something and watch the rest of the sunset, okay? It's nice  
tonight.'" make me want to cry. They are simple, yet full of meaning. A  
friendship well, in this story's case, relationship that could never exist,  
except for in dreams. Its haunting. Somehow...I'm going on a huge rant now,  
please forgive me since you described this at sunset, I picture Percy lost in  
this warm, yellowy, blinding light of the dying sun. You know, like the moment  
when the sun is sinking to the horizon, and shrouds everything in its last  
rays, so that everything becomes a dark silhoutte surrounded by golden light?  
Am I just ranting senselessly? Well, I picture Luke blinded in that  
light--so that all he really sees is the outline of Percy, the slightest image  
of his face in the shadows of sun. I feel the the idea of him holding out his  
hand--its like a gesture of peace, which is bittersweet, because its full of  
longing, but very obviously can never be reached.  
Oh, and I love this part, its so sharp and clever, cynical:"Remember what  
talented liars Hermes' children are? Of course you do, and you're probably  
frowning and wondering what percentage of this letter is made up of those  
world-class lies. I'll make it easy and tell you: Everything except the last  
587 words, and the ones after them." It was so clever, left my eyebrows raised  
and a smirk on my lips. Wonderful.  
The ending is phenomenal. Okay, I'll admit it. You made me like the LukePercy  
shipping. You truly did. Despite the fact that I still don't believe that Luke  
is gay, I found myself drinking in and loving these complicated feelings Luke  
has--and the ending is just so magnificent. I love the way its cut short, so  
abruptly, before the words can be said, leaving it up to the imagination. So  
close--but it will never be said. I'll admit that I think and hope. See what  
you've done to me? that the words are "I'm sorry and I love you." I'll even  
go so far as to say that I'm longing for Percy's reaction--if he would ever  
even read this, but I think you're right to leave it vague. It gives power to  
the piece.  
I love how the ending is this hurried, dramatic bit--so gorgeously and  
perfectly done. Its not too fast, and the abrupt cut off leaves you shocked  
and amazed. I adore how it seems to be Luke's final, last minute, his dying  
message--and in this moment of truth, he admits "what I now feel is the wrong  
side" and that he's actually sorry. This is why I love Luke's character so  
much. He's so interesting, so complicated. He's definitely not a hero, but  
he's not a normal villian. I truly think I'll be one of the few who sobs if he  
dies at the end of the series. ;;  
The textbook finish...chilling, haunting, so amazing. I fall over, dead, in  
wonder and awe at this. Seriously. First off, the titles are outstanding, so  
cool and creative. I particularly love "Turncoat's War" and "Western  
Civilization: Its Genesis, Its Fall, Its Resurrection?" its sounds so much  
like a block of real history, like a literal textbook. And the reference to  
Chiron was excellent--ties back to the book, to everything.  
I think I particularly like the textbook ending because, besides the utter  
creativity of you coming up with this, its cold--after we see directly into  
the mind and heart of Luke, his death is summed up in a sentence, detached, no  
speak of regrets or anything, just plain facts. And of course, the fact that  
it was Percy who killed Luke is so bitterly ironic and beautiful that I could  
almost smack you in my envy. It leaves this tight knot in my chest.  
I wish I could be better at reviewing, so I could truly understand how this  
piece made me feel--but I think the only thing I can say is that I truly  
admire you and this piece of work. Its the type that will stay with me, stay  
on my mind, and I'll obsess over it. Its so sad, so tragic, so lovely, so  
deeply bitter. I adored every minute of it-I truly respect you, and above all,  
I hope you never stop writing.  
If you want though you very obviously don't have too! I also wrote a fanfic  
about Luke--though, in opposition to yours, its takes place in the PAST,  
before Luke betrayed the gods. Its actually a long chapter fic, but  
unfortunately I've had it on hiatus for a while...You see, I'm writing this  
orignial work that I'm really excited about its 200 pages! I never wrote so  
much in just one story before! and I feel like if I wrote anything else  
alongside it, I would get distracted. But I do hope to return to my Luke story  
once I finish my orignial work. I would be honored if you gave it a shot.  
Note: I actually don't like the first chapter so much as the following  
Thanks so much for this amazing story. We need more like this on fanfiction.  
This is totally going under my faves. And you're also going down as a favorite  
author. Yay!!

* * *

And here is my response:

* * *

I can't tell you how affected I was by your review. Really. Honestly. For one  
thing, you wrote me an essay. AN ESSAY. More importantly, you understood and  
explained everything that was running through my head as I wrote, and what I  
tried to embody in the words. I'm completely shocked that someone read all the  
same things into it so clearly, and that you even imagined the same mental  
pictures that I did! (I'd like to hear more about the symbolism you saw in the  
dream, by the way. Maybe there's something that occurred to you that I never  
even imagined?) You basically took the murky sensations that I was trying to  
capture in cold written language and translated them, something that I don't  
know if I could have done as well myself. It's just amazing how you've  
analyzed every little bit of it! I'm completely flabbergasted and amazed! Do  
you always review like this? Am I missing something? I'm so impressed by this  
review that I'm going straight over to read your Luke fic. No kidding.  
Oh, by the way, I love it when people review this story and say "I don't  
like slash/LukexPercy/Luke or Percy being gay, but I liked this". Absolutely  
love it. It says to me that even though they weren't into some things about  
the narrative, my writing was so compelling to them that they enjoyed it  
anyway. (I don't really think Luke's gay, by the way. He and Thalia totally  
have something special. )

Again, I can't tell you how much this review meant to me. It's the best  
review I've ever received, ever, in my entire history of writing. I think you  
changed my life tonight a little bit. Luke, of course, is one of my favorite  
characters (thank you for not metaphorically tearing me apart and stealing him  
back from my clutches for making him fall for Percy), so to have someone tell  
me that I captured him perfectly is both a shock and immensely gratifying. It  
makes me want to write more!

I can't say thank you enough. I now have the utmost respect for you. bows And  
I'm going to give you credit for this, too.


End file.
